<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Revenant, Remnant by Kgraces</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29464383">Revenant, Remnant</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kgraces/pseuds/Kgraces'>Kgraces</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Batman - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Accidental Brother Acquisition, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Jason Todd Needs A Hug, Tim Drake Needs a Hug, Titans Tower au</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 20:34:21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,688</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29464383</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kgraces/pseuds/Kgraces</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Jason comes to Titan's Tower to destroy Tim Drake. He doesn't find what he's expecting, though, but he does he find himself realizing just how wrong he was about the third Robin.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jason Todd &amp; Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake &amp; Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake &amp; Dick Grayson, Tim Drake &amp; Jason Todd</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>63</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>868</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Red Hood vs Red Robin</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Ambush</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">


        <li>
            Inspired by

            <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27180688">Cain</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/envysparkler/pseuds/envysparkler">envysparkler</a>.
        </li>

    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Envy's Titan's Tower AUs are a gift, and if you haven't read them, you absolutely should.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It’s almost laughably easy to break into Titans Tower. They hadn’t even bothered to disable his old codes. Jason carefully incapacitates each of the Teen Titans, working methodically with a cold efficiency, honed over years with the Bat and the League. From what Jason has gathered, Batman is keeping his little Robin away from the city as much as possible, far away from the mysterious new villain prowling around Crime Alley, leaving severed heads in duffel bags. It’s pathetic, really, to think the Red Hood won’t go after Robin just because he’s a kid. He has Gotham in his bones and Lazarus-fueled rage in his blood. He doesn’t fight fair. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It’s simple to knock out the occupants of the tower. He saves the little bird for last. He’s ready to take down the imposter, to prove himself as the better of the two of them. He wonders how soon it’ll take him to snap the kid’s neck. He walks with silent steps toward the boy in the dark cape. He’s distracted—on the phone with Bruce—which lets Jason get close enough to catch him off guard. Tim puts the phone away in his bag, and Jason chooses that exact moment to spring his trap.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey Tim,” he says, feigning nonchalance. “I was here first.” The kid whips around, eyes wide behind the domino mask. He takes in the sight of the Red Hood, looming over him and immediately reaches for his bo staff.  </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Why are you here?” Tim asks cautiously. He backs up, bumping into the floor-to-ceiling window behind him. Tim bites his lip, eyeing Jason as he advances toward him. He tilts his head to the side, curiosity winning over his nerves. He reminds Jason of a little bird, just with his mannerisms. It’d be adorable if it didn’t make him want to smash the kid’s face in. His skin crawls with the feeling of the kid’s gaze on him, analyzing him. He’d known the brat was smart, but now he’s getting to see it for himself firsthand. It’s almost dizzying. He can practically </span>
  <em>
    <span>see </span>
  </em>
  <span>the gears turning in his head as the kid studies the situation from every angle.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m here to show you what being Robin </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>means, Replacement,” Jason spits. He takes off his helmet and tosses it to the ground. It strikes against the floor with a loud clatter, and Jason can see the kid suppress a flinch at the sound. Tim’s expression shifts to one of poorly-concealed shock. Jason’s surprised when the kid reaches up and takes his mask off, studying him with startlingly pale blue eyes. He finds himself looking into the unguarded face of Tim Drake. His gaze is almost eerie as it flicks over the lines of Jason’s face, trying to figure out who it is behind the red domino mask still obscuring his features.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Why are you </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>here, Jason?” He asks.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Smart kid, indeed.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“The last kid to wear that suit was stupid enough to get himself killed, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>stepped in and took </span>
  <em>
    <span>everything.</span>
  </em>
  <span> You slipped into that life like I never even existed—like I meant </span>
  <em>
    <span>nothing.</span>
  </em>
  <span> You’ve got the suit, the adventure, the family—”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What are you talking about?” The kid interrupts, looking startled, tone heated. “You’re right. I </span>
  <em>
    <span>am </span>
  </em>
  <span>just a replacement. I don’t—I don’t have any of that. I earned Batman’s trust and respect, sure, but he resents me. I see it in his face every time he looks at me and realizes it’s not his son standing there. I didn’t take your place in your family, either. I’m not part of the family, and I don’t really even </span>
  <em>
    <span>have </span>
  </em>
  <span>a family. B sends me back to an empty house every night after patrol. I could never belong with them like you did, like you </span>
  <em>
    <span>still do.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jason scowls, stalking forward, close enough to grab Tim by the collar of his cape and lift him off the ground to his eye-level. The kid looks almost resigned, the fire drained out of him by his own words. There’s an emptiness in his eyes, underscored by dark shadows. Jason tosses him back to the floor, and the kid drops into a crumpled pile of limbs with a hiss, stumbling back to his feet after a moment.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I could never be as good as you were as Robin, but I have the suit because I’m the stubborn kid who took it because Batman was going to get himself killed without someone to protect. He didn’t want me...nobody does.” He runs a hand across his face, sighing. He gestures to one ankle, wincing a little as his weight shifts. “I couldn’t even manage this </span>
  <em>
    <span>stupid </span>
  </em>
  <span>mission properly.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He’s surprised Jason again, with that little speech. Tim sighs, shoulders slumping a little. He looks like he’s bracing himself, for a punch or for venomous words aimed at him. Jason really can’t tell what’s going through the kid’s mind, but he doesn’t think any of it must be very good. Jason feels almost guilty.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Almost.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But then, the kid keeps </span>
  <em>
    <span>talking.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“If you want Robin back, you can have it. It’s yours, anyways. I never had the other stuff, but </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>can still have all that.” Jason lets out a humorless laugh, shaking his head. Tim looks confused for a moment, but something seems to click in his brain. “The Red Hood thing isn’t going to stop your family from taking you back.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Right,” Jason drawls. “Tell that to the eight severed heads I delivered to the GCPD.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t think Commissioner Gordon would give me access.” Tim shrugs almost delicately. “But seriously Jason, I don’t belong with them. You do.” Jason scowls, irritation mounting once again, but this time, his ire is directed toward something more abstract, something he can’t quite put a name to.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Stop saying that,” he says. The kid looks confused, and Jason lets out a frustrated growl. “Don’t play dumb with me, kid. B finally got himself a better bird, yeah? One who didn’t crawl out from the gutter with too much violence and anger in his blood?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s not true!” Tim says fiercely. The fire in his tone takes Jason aback for a moment, and he raises an eyebrow in a silent demand for Tim to explain. “You were the </span>
  <em>
    <span>best </span>
  </em>
  <span>Robin, Jason.” At Jason’s disbelieving scoff, Tim’s expression grows more indignant. “I’m being serious!” He looks like he’d stomp his foot if it wouldn’t injure him further. He settles for crossing his arms and glaring at Jason. “You were my hero. Don’t act like none of it mattered, because you have no idea how much it really did—does matter.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jason doesn’t want to hear it—doesn’t want to confront it.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Why did you come here?” Tim asks, voice going soft and sad in a way which makes Jason want to tear his own hair out.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“To kill you,” he answers honestly.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Tim doesn’t freeze or turn to run, like Jason half-expects. He just nods, but the movement sends him swaying on his feet. Jason wonders just how injured he really is as he lunges to catch Tim before he can hit the ground again. He’s already unconscious by the time Jason manages to scoop him up, limp like a ragdoll. Must be a concussion.      </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He’s light—lighter than a kid of his age should be, and Hood thinks to himself of hollow bird bones, idly wondering if the scrawny brat in his arms is more Robin than boy. Then he thinks of how easily those bones can snap, and he has to bite back a wave of fury. Tim is so small, cradled against him, and Jason’s brain keeps repeating a thought back to him on a loop:</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>He’s just a kid. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Indecision strikes him, mingly coldly with shame. Jason sighs. This isn’t quite what he’d expected from his day, but he’s nothing if not adaptable. He makes his way to the hangar and swipes one of the nicer planes—definitely engineered by one of the Bats. Jason drops Tim into a seat and buckles him in, moving to take his spot in the pilot’s chair. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They’re headed back to Gotham a few minutes later. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Some of Tim’s words, blurted out in a haze of post-mission exhaustion and concussive confusion, rattle around in his head. Bruce sends him back to an empty house every night. He’s not part of the family, not wanted. He doesn’t have a family. He’s resented. It makes Jason uneasy, and he’s not sure why. He’d come to San Francisco to kill the little bird, but now he doesn’t know what to do with him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He’d found Tim’s address during his research. He’ll start there. From what he knows, the kid has a living family, but he needs to figure out why Bruce keeps letting him go off all by himself. Isn’t that what got Jason killed in the first place? The hypocrisy burns against his knuckles. Something is seriously wrong with this picture, but Jason will figure it out. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He’s not unaware of the irony of the situation. He doesn’t deserve to help the kid, not after he broke into the Tower to make him bleed, but hearing the things Tim had to say about himself makes the ugly wound in his heart left by his death and subsequent rejection by Bruce ache. He doesn’t want another kid to feel the way he did—still does, if he’s being honest with himself—especially from Bruce’s inability to properly care for the kids he’s responsible for. Jason grinds his teeth and focuses on his breathing. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He lands the jet a while later, still trying to keep his hands from shaking and clenching into fists, nails biting into skin. The sight of the kid next to him hasn’t eased any of the tension from his bones, but he’s determined to keep his temper under control. He’s decided not to hurt the kid, but the Lazarus Pit hasn’t let its hooks out of the idea just yet. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Breaking into the Drakes’ house isn’t anything close to a challenge to Jason. He has the kid hefted over his shoulder like a sack of vigilante-shaped potatoes, so he drops him off in the only room which looks even remotely lived in. A backpack is slung into one corner of the room, and the blankets are halfway off the bed. A desk rests against one wall, covered in stacks of papers. Above it sits a corkboard, and Jason sees photos tacked up with pushpins. He sees one of Tim with his Teen Titan friends—in their civilian forms, of course—and one artsy shot of Gotham’s skyline at twilight. One photo in particular catches his eye, though, and steals the breath from him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It’s Robin. Not just Robin—him. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Jason. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He remembers a tiny kid with wide blue eyes and wonder in his face, plucked to safety from a rusted fire escape in the middle of the night, an expensive camera around his neck. He remembers a toothy smile and too many questions and a stammered </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘you’re my hero!’</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“You were my hero.” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jason’s fingers brush against the photo of himself, smiling like he’s invincible, and something conflicted curls in his stomach, nostalgia mingling with bitterness. He misses that poor, dead boy, mourns for him still. He glances back at Tim, asleep on top of the messy covers, and he sighs. He has to move on.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jack Drake’s office isn’t hard to find, and within moments, he’s logged into the computer. Jason sits at the fancy desk and starts digging into financial records. He follows a seemingly endless thread of travel—only ever two tickets. He does some mental math, and a sick feeling settles against his skin. Months at a time, gone.  </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And suddenly, he can’t hate Tim Drake for joining their family, even if he thinks otherwise.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Discussion</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Tim should've woken up in Titan's Tower, not Gotham</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tim Drake wakes up in Gotham. He sits up, rubbing an eye and looking around in confusion. He has no idea how he got here, in his bedroom at his parents’ house. He remembers getting back from the mission, injured and exhausted, and then there was something—something important, his brain insists—and then nothing. He spots a red helmet sitting innocently on his desk, and his blood runs cold. </p><p> </p><p>Oh, right.</p><p> </p><p>The Red Hood broke into Titan’s Tower. </p><p> </p><p>Jason Todd wants to kill him. </p><p> </p><p>Before he can stop himself, Tim lets out a wounded sound. It hurts, worse than the concussion or the sprained ankle, worse than anything he can dream up at the moment. Jason—his Robin—wants him dead. He takes a moment to panic a little before settling his thoughts, piecing together the events which must’ve unfolded since he lost consciousness. They’re back in Gotham, in his parents’ house, and Tim isn’t further injured.</p><p> </p><p>Does Jason want to toy with him for a while before he finally kills him? A shudder runs cold fingers down his spine, and Tim struggles to his feet, biting his lip at the pain flaring in his ankle. He has to get out before Jason comes back. Tim hobbles toward the window, numb fingers scrabbling at the latch. A throat clears behind him, and Tim whirls around, dread sinking into his bones.</p><p> </p><p>“Thought you were supposed to be the smart one, Replacement.”</p><p> </p><p>“Jason?” Tim’s voice sounds small and wobbly, even to his own ears. Jason’s eyes are green, too green. “Why...why am I still alive?” He fights back a flinch as Jason steps forward into the room, but he must not hide it well enough, because Jason halts mid-motion.  </p><p> </p><p>His posture is relaxed, but Tim has read reports on the Red Hood. He knows better than to let himself slip into a false sense of security at the sight of Jason—Robin—standing a few feet in front of him, hands at his sides and expression calm. Tim leans back, resting his weight against the windowsill, and he takes a shuddering breath. He knows Jason wants to kill him, and if he hadn’t taken the opportunity while he was unconscious, he probably wants Tim to <em> feel </em>it. He has to steady himself. He won’t falter, even as his chest feels like it’s being cracked in half at the thought of his hero drawing out his death as a sick game. </p><p> </p><p>He thinks of hawks, the natural predator to Robins, and he thinks of how Jason’s wings were clipped, and he <em> aches. </em> </p><p> </p><p>“Are you going to take your time?” Tim asks, ignoring the shaking of his fingers as he focuses on Jason’s face. When his predecessor’s expression twists into one of confusion, Tim finds himself blinking back hot tears. “Killing me?” The words come out as a strangled whisper. He feels like his lungs have already been shredded into confetti. He wonders how much worse it’ll feel to have Jason murder him, to look into those eyes—green, far too green—and see his last moments reflect against them. </p><p> </p><p>“That’s it?” Jason asks with a scoff. “You’re just going to roll over and die?” He shakes his head, and Tim’s shoulders creep toward his ears.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m already injured and disarmed,” Tim reminds him. “Plus, you’re built like a tank.” He hesitates, scrunching up his nose as he contemplates his next words. “Jason, please just make it quick.”</p><p> </p><p>Jason stares at him for a long moment, and Tim feels his heart as it stutters its last, desperate beats against his ribcage. Finally, Jason sighs heavily and steps fully into the room, moving to sit down on Tim’s bed. He pats the mattress next to him, and Tim gapes at him. </p><p> </p><p>“Sit down, kid. We’ve got a lot to talk about.” </p><p> </p><p>Is he joking? Is this a trap? Tim bites his lip until it bleeds, frozen in place by indecision. Jason waves him over, expression falling from stoicism to something a little gentler. Tim eventually hobbles over and sits down next to Jason, limbs shaking with nervous, fluttery energy. He stares up at Jason’s face, familiar but older than he remembers. </p><p> </p><p>Older than he ever thought that face would become.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not going to kill you,” Jason starts. Tim watches him with uncertainty thrumming through his veins. As much as he wants to trust Jason, he’s well aware of how dangerous he is. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry I scared you. I think I might’ve been given some misinformation.” </p><p> </p><p>“And misinformation translates to murder?” Tim asks, frowning. </p><p> </p><p>“When it’s coming from Talia al Ghul? Yeah, it does.”</p><p> </p><p>Tim freezes at that, and something clicks into place in his head. He glances back at Jason’s eyes, and his breath catches in his throat. He recognizes that shade of green. Of course, the Lazarus Pit has its claws in Jason. Fear and pity mingle together somewhere in his chest. Tim hesitates, biting his lip as he weighs his next thought in his mind. It’s a crazy idea, stupid even.</p><p> </p><p>He decides it’s worth the risk, even if it gets him stabbed. </p><p> </p><p>Tim leans over and wraps his arms around Jason, practically collapsing against the older boy’s side. Jason tenses, and Tim thinks for a fleeting moment he’s miscalculated, but then one of Jason’s hands reaches up to cover his, and Tim feels another ruffle his hair. Jason relaxes, and Tim melts into the hug. He hears a soft, curious hum from above his head. Tim parrots the noise back at him, wondering what’s caught Jason’s attention.</p><p> </p><p>“Seems like you really needed a hug, Baby Bird,” Jason says. “Which is part of what I want to talk to you about.” Tim’s blood runs cold again as Jason leans back, the expression on his face serious and dripping with pity. “Your parents shouldn’t leave you alone like this, Tim.”</p><p> </p><p>“Everyone does,” Tim says, confusion lacing its way into his tone. “It’s not a big deal.” He tilts his head, studying Jason’s expression as it shifts from concern to rage and back again. Tim ignores the flash of fear he feels at the anger and focuses instead on the worry. Jason must catch something in his expression, though, because his free hand makes its way to Tim’s hair again, the touch gentle enough to be jarring. Tim isn’t used to softness. Jason pets his hair for a moment, and Tim lets himself be held. The hug smells of gunpowder and leather.</p><p> </p><p>“You don’t deserve this,” Jason says in a sigh. He rests his chin on top of Tim’s head. “Does Bruce know about your parents?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah,” Tim replies, voice muffled by Jason’s shirt.</p><p> </p><p>“He makes you stay here alone?” There’s something wounded in the words, but Tim doesn’t dwell on the sound. He just nods. Jason’s chest heaves with a sigh. “Why?”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not his kid,” Tim says easily. He shrugs, movements hindered by Jason’s hold on him. </p><p> </p><p>“But you <em> are </em>a kid,” Jason says, tone firm, unyielding. “You’re a kid under his care, and he shouldn't just leave you here to be neglected.” </p><p> </p><p>“I can take care of myself.”</p><p> </p><p>“That doesn’t matter. You deserve to have someone here for you.” </p><p> </p><p>“Bruce doesn’t <em> want </em>to be that person,” Tim argues, leaning back to look Jason in the eye. “No one has ever wanted to be that person for me. What does that say about me?” He frowns, self-deprecating and worn. “You wanted me dead the last time I checked.”</p><p> </p><p>“There’s no excuse for what I almost did, but you snapped me out of it. Thanks for that, by the way.” Jason’s smile is kind. The sight of it makes Tim’s teeth hurt. “But seriously Tim, you’re Robin. That means you’re family.” </p><p> </p><p>“No,” he argues. “Bruce doesn’t want another kid, not after you.” </p><p> </p><p>“Well,” Jason drawls, smile moving toward something more mischievous. “Who said anything about you being Bruce’s kid making you family? You’re my little brother now, and I’m sure Dickie claims you, too. We outnumber the old man.”</p><p> </p><p>Tim tilts his head a little, studying Jason’s expression. Jason lets him stare.</p><p> </p><p>“You’d be that person?” Tim finally asks. “The one here for me?” It’s a challenge—one Jason meets with a surprising calmness. He nods, once, and Tim thinks he understands the underlying question.</p><p> </p><p>“I won’t leave, not like your parents. And I won’t treat you like you don’t exist outside of the mask, like Bruce.” </p><p> </p><p>Tim rests against Jason, listening to the steady thrum of his heartbeat. He sinks into his thoughts, examining the evidence and drawing his conclusions with the critical eye he used to earn his role as Robin. Jason sounds sincere enough, but plenty of other people have made promises to him before. Tim wants to trust him, desperately wants to believe in his Robin, but the pragmatism in his bones claws against the idea with a vengeance. His chest feels heavy with the desire to take a leap of faith. </p><p> </p><p>He thinks of the Red Hood, brutal and bloodsoaked, and he thinks of Robin, bright and bold. Tim makes his choice with that wild grin in his mind’s eye. Maybe he can bring Jason back from the brink of slipping into the darkness he’s been dancing with since his return. Tim has only ever wanted to make Jason proud. He’s only ever been helpful—necessary, not wanted—in the shadow of Jason’s ghost. </p><p> </p><p>Tim just wants to help. </p><p> </p><p>Letting Jason be his brother will help him, right?</p><p> </p><p>Tim wants to trust Jason not to abandon him, but he doesn’t want to let himself get hurt again. He’s never had anyone actually stay when they promise they will. He doesn’t know whether or not he’ll be able to guard himself from the hurt of Jason leaving him, too. Either way, he’s willing to weather that hurt, for his family. </p><p> </p><p>Tim’s mind is made up. He looks at the unstable murderer next to him and nods. Family it is, then, but first, he wants to test the waters—figure out just how far he can push Jason’s newfound patience with him.   </p><p> </p><p>“Can we call Dick?” </p><p> </p><p>“Yeah,” Jason says, grinning wolfishly. “I can recruit him to help me yell at Bruce.”</p><p> </p><p>”Wait, what?”</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>